


The Day After Victory

by Tayefeth



Series: The San Francisco Effect [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hermione Granger is dead before the fic starts, M/M, POV First Person, POV Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-28
Updated: 2005-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26152426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tayefeth/pseuds/Tayefeth
Summary: Winning a war isn't necessarily a happy ending.Written for the hp_for_grownups challenge: The Day After Voldemort Died
Series: The San Francisco Effect [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898599





	The Day After Victory

I wake up as filthy as I fell asleep. For a moment, I can’t quite believe that it’s over. That I did it, killed what Tom Riddle had become, saved the world, fulfilled the prophecy and survived. Granted, I didn’t rescue any maidens, but I should still have happily ever after to look forward to, right?

I stumble out of the tent someone must have set up around me. A whole village of tents sprang up overnight, complete with Muggle-deflecting wards I can sort of see out of the corners of my eyes. The Muggles will have noticed us yesterday. Even they can’t ignore that sort of explosion, but they’ll have invented a reassuring excuse to cover it. Someday, I think, I’ll find out what.

How Minerva McGonagall can look as cool as she does after a summer spent helping me chase Voldemort across Europe is beyond me, but she looks... pristine, and as imposing as the first time I saw her. I feel twice as grubby by comparison.

“Harry! A word, if you please?”

I’d rather have a shower first, but that doesn’t seem to be my luck. I try to get my hair out of my eyes. “What is it, Minerva?” After four years of fighting under Albus’s direction and four months of directing the fighting myself, I’ve learned to call my teachers by their given names. Most of them, at least.

“With the new first-years arriving at Hogwarts in a matter of days, I wonder if you’d consider taking the Defense position? There’s certainly no one more qualified than you are.”

I stare at her. The sum total of my qualifications are the corpses on the battlefield yesterday and the scar on my forehead. I mean, yes, I did just kill the late 20th century’s answer to Grindewald, but I’m hardly an experienced Defense Master. Kingsley Shacklebolt broke the curse on the DADA post the year I left Hogwarts, and has been teaching ever since. He’s solid, dependable... 

I see Kingsley and Severus watching us. Kingsley pretends not to know what Minerva is asking me, but Severus glares at me. He knows. He knows, and he expects me to accept Minerva’s offer, to take Kingsley’s job.

I remember just before Hermione died, over a year ago. She was apprenticed to Severus; the cleverest witch of our generation apprenticed to the spy. They brought a new antidote to the camp we’d set up, so all the fighters had access to it. Severus’s cover could have been blown by that alone, but Hermione wasn’t yet ready to handle the last stages of the potion on her own and the potion didn’t deal well with apparition in its final form.

I remember that Kingsley walked over to them at their makeshift lab. Hermione had a crush on Kingsley, and I saw how she looked at him. And I saw how Severus looked at Kingsley. My heart leapt and then shattered. Severus wanted Kingsley as much as Hermione did.

I look now, ignoring Minerva’s impatience. Severus stands too close to Kingsley. I want to tear them apart, take Kingsley’s place as professor and Severus’s lover. But I know I’d never be sure that I had Severus’s heart, if I did that. And Merlin help me, but I want Severus to be happy, even if he’s not with me.

“I couldn’t do that, Minerva. Kingsley broke the curse. He deserves to keep the job as long as he wants it.”

I turn on my heel and head for the showers. I can hear Ron’s voice in the back of my head, asking me why I’m turning down everything I want most in the world. “I haven’t earned it, yet.”


End file.
